A Shock to the System
by TheDreamyOne
Summary: Final Chapter Now up!Jake and Frank head to Colombia to rescue an undercover DEA agent from certain death...but unexpected complications arise
1. The Demand

Title:                A Shock to the System

Author:              Dreamscape (Shelley)

Type:              Action/Adventure/Angst

Spoiler:              Hunting Armando

Summary:            Jake and Frank head to Colombia to rescue an undercover DEA agent from certain death...but unexpected complications arise.

Disclaimer:    UC:Undercover and its characters belong to Shane Salerno and formerly NBC.  All original characters belong to me.  Whoopie.  No infringements intended.

Chapter One

"A copy of this arrived at DEA headquarters in Miami less than an hour ago."  Thomas Renquist slid the envelope across the table.  He knew convincing Donovan this assignment was worth the risk was a long shot, but he was ready to fight tooth and nail to get him to agree.   If worse came to worse, he had the authority to order him to do it.

Donovan slapped his hand down on the thick manila envelope before it had a chance to slide off the edge; his eyes never wavered from the stern looking silver haired man that stood at the head of conference table.  "Why bring it to us?"

"Just watch it," he insisted.  He waited while Donovan worked his fingers over his mouth and stroked his goatee, deciding whether or not to give him any more of his time.  

"Cody."

"Already on it," Cody said, picking up the envelope and popping the tape into the machine.

"What the hell?" Alex commented as the video focused.

"Who is she?" Jake asked, horrified.

"Undercover DEA would be my guess," Donovan commented, watching the screen.  Inwardly his stomach churned and he felt the urge to vomit; outwardly he showed no signs of caring what was happening on the screen.

"You would be correct.  Her name is Fallon Dumas.  She infiltrated the organization of Jorge Espinosa four months ago.  Jorge has an affinity for redheads."

She sat in the middle of an empty room, tied nude to an oversized wooden chair with wide, flat arms.  Her ankles and knees were tied to the legs of the chair, whereas her wrists and elbows were tied to its arms.  Her head hung low, chin pressed to her chest, causing her long auburn tresses to hide her face and cover her exposed breasts.  Her arms and legs were covered with blood from cuts inflicted, possibly by knives, during the interrogation she had received.

"Why show you this? Why not just kill her?" Cody asked, running a hand through his wiry brown curls.

"A show of superiority by an egomaniacal personality," Monica presumed.

"So, my dear Larissa," a voice said off camera, "or should I call you that?  I am sure it is not your real name."

Her head lifted slowly revealing her badly bruised cheeks and chin.  Her left eye was swollen shut and her bottom lip was split open.  Defiance gleamed in her one open sky blue, bloodshot eye as the man moved closer to hunker down in front of her.  He ran a lazy hand along the inside of her thigh as he laughed hatefully.  "Tell me what I want to know and I'll let you live." 

She spat in his face for his answer.

"If I had known what a resilient woman you were, perhaps our lovemaking would have been more...how should I say...interesting, hmm?" he mocked as he stood to walk away.

"Jorge," she croaked through her dry throat.

He turned just enough to see her smile wickedly through her pain.

"I faked it every time."

"You beech," he yelled, taking a step toward her, backhanding her across the face with enough force to rock her head back in the chair, blood spattered the wall as a new cut opened above her temple.  "Perhaps you will feel differently if I were to offer you to the men, eh?"  He waited for a reaction but all that was received was another cold look of defiance.  "Tell me who your contact is and you will live."

"You lie," she accused and dropped her head back to her chin.  

The screen turned to white snow as the picture cut off and Cody stopped the tape.  

"What do you want from us?" Donovan asked without emotion.

"I want to get Fallon out of there," Renquist replied.

"You think she's still alive?" Jake asked.

"As of an hour ago she was.  Our informant got word to us just after the tape was delivered.  She's being held here," he said, spreading an overhead map of Espinosa's compound on the table.  He pointed to a building at the edge of the compound.  "At Espinosa's compound in Bucaramanga, Columbia.  The building she is in is an abandoned barn they use to store supplies."

"Still, why come to us?" Donovan asked again.

"I need the best and you're it, Frank.  You know the area and you're the man for the job," he insisted.

"I'll go," Jake volunteered quickly.

"No," Donovan replied.  "My team will not risk their lives on a suicide mission."

"So, you would leave her to die," Renquist asked.

"She's already dead," he replied coldly.  

"Harsh," Cody commented, shaking his head.

"Frank, you have no choice.  It's a direct order."  Renquist slapped a folder on the table in front of the special ops leader.  "Be ready to leave within the hour."

************

Alex remained at the conference table, studying the file Renquist left behind.  Her emotions were churning; she had never felt such outrage against her boss in all the time they had worked together.  She watched him closely, spouting orders to Cody and Monica.  She often wondered what happened in his life to make him so cold and unfeeling. She had her suspicions that his nature was not to be this way, but he forced the outward appearance to protect himself as well as those around him.   And at this moment, she didn't care if he was putting on an act or not.   His attitude toward Fallon Dumas' situation had hit a nerve and she was fuming mad.

He stood across the room, tall, swarthy and provocatively handsome, as his intense chocolate brown eyes studied the aerial views of the compound that he would have to sneak into in order to extract the captured agent.  His long tapered fingers continually rubbed his chin or nervously ran through his short black hair.  He looked up slowly, catching Alex scrutinizing him.

"What is it, Alex," he asked, catching her off guard.  She literally jumped in her chair, and looked down at the file she was studying.  Her short brown hair framed her face, as her silver-blue eyes grazed the pages of Fallon Dumas' file.

"If it were me," she asked, lifting her head and locking her eyes onto his.  "Would you come for me?"

"It isn't you," he reminded her.

"It could be," she said, troubled.  "It is me."

"That is an entirely different issue," he insisted, turning his attention back to the photo.

Alex stood noisily, grabbed the file and tossed it over the photo he was examining.  "Look at her, damn you.  Just look!"  She steeled herself against the inevitable cold anger she would find in his brown eyes.  "If she were one of yours, how would you feel if you knew another agent went in under orders he didn't wish to follow and could care less if she lived or died?"

"Alex," he started, but was cut off.

"No.  No excuses, Donovan," she said, slapping the desk.  "If you go in there with the attitude you have, you might as well hold a gun to her head yourself.  Pretend you give a damn, you self-righteous son-of-a-bitch."  She didn't wait for the storm to hit; she turned on her heel and headed to the gym to work out her frustrations.

"What the hell was that all about," he asked, perplexed.  Alex's usual calm demeanor had been replaced by an irrational facsimile.

"She's never completely gotten over being held captive during that prison riot," Monica explained.  

Donovan looked up at his profiler.  He saw a flash of her white teeth, brilliant in contrast to her dark skin, when she smiled sympathetically as she sat down beside him, her long black braid falling over her shoulder as she leaned forward to pick up the file.

"Pretty lady," she commented, looking at the DEA agent's photo.

"Yes."

"Alex came close to dying in that prison.  If Carlos hadn't protected her, God knows what would have been done to her," Monica rationalized.

Donovan nodded.  "She's too close to the issue, she'll stay here."

"She won't like that," Monica insisted.

"She'll get over it.  Jake will go with me."

"Good luck, Frank,' she said, laying a hand on his arm.

"We'll need it."

To be continued...


	2. Travel and Innuendoes

Chapter Two

Donovan leaned back against the inside hull of the Boeing 767 Military Transport.  No matter how many transports he'd flown in, its loud hum never failed to give him a headache.  He tried to will the pain away as he watched Jake stuff the side pockets of his cargo pants with extra clips of ammo.  They were both wearing the standard 100% cotton rip-stop, black commando sweaters, cargo pants and jungle combat boots.  A jungle survival pack was also issued, containing a bowie knife, sheathed at their hips, a small first aide kit, a canteen of water and combat rations.  Hell, he didn't plan to be out in the jungle long enough to feel the need to eat that crap.

"You okay, Frank?" Jake asked, sitting next to him on the bench seat that lined the sidewall of the plane.  

"As I can be," he replied, he replied irritably.

"Have you really given her up for dead?" Jake asked out of the blue.  

Donovan sensed something was on Jake's mind.  "Ye...no...I really don't know.  If Espinosa wants information she's not willing to give, chances are he's beaten her to death by now.  It's been hours since that video was made."

"I won't believe that," Jake stated, emphatically.  

"Is there something you need to tell me?" he asked, frowning.

"When we first saw the video, I didn't recognize her," Jake said, hesitantly.

"What are you saying, Jake?"

"We went through Quantico together.  She's naturally a blonde; the auburn hair threw me.  With the bruises and the dyed hair...I didn't recognize her."  His intense brown eyes conveyed his concern for his friend.  "She's worth saving, Frank."

He sighed and rubbed his temples.  First Alex berated him and now Jake just naturally assumed he wouldn't give it his 100 percent because he thinks it's a suicide mission.  Will they never learn?  "Look, Jake.  I have every intention of bringing her and us back alive.  Just don't loose sight of the fact that we may be too late."

************

"Call Maria.  Have her help Larissa clean up," Jorge ordered.

"Why?  First you beat and torture the _puta_, and now you wish to take care of her?" Miguel questioned, annoyed.

"Do not _ever_ speak of her that way again," Jorge threatened through clenched teeth.

"You still love her?  Even after her betrayal?  She's DEA, _amigo,_" Miguel reminded him.  

Jorge put a finger under her chin and tilted it upward and smiled slyly at the DEA agent.   "It was a good performance, _querida_."

"What are you talking about, Jorge?" she demanded weakly.  Fallon watched the handsome Colombian closely through her good eye.  He was not tall by any means, but what he lacked in height, he more than made up in intelligence and confidence. 

"Miguel, do not make me ask again.  Call Maria," he commanded before turning his attention back to Fallon.  "You need not worry about revealing the traitor, for it was he who betrayed you."  

"What do you want, Jorge?"

"In time, all will be clear, Larissa."  He touched her bruised and bleeding cheek before leaving the room.

Fallon stared at the floor, her mind racing, trying to fathom what Jorge might have planned.  If it were true, that it was Roberto that had revealed who she was...was he dead, then?  If he was, why didn't Jorge kill her?  He must know she cost him millions in the last four months.  What did he think he would gain by sending that video to the DEA?

"_Dios!_," Maria exclaimed as she entered the room.  "Larissa, what is the meaning of this?  Are you badly injured?"  She knelt in front of her, setting a basin of water on the floor next to the chair.  

"I don't think so, Maria," Fallon answered.  She sensed the anguish the young Hispanic woman was feeling.  "Can you untie me, please?"

"No, I can not," she replied shaking her head.  "Miguel forbids it."

"I understand," Fallon acknowledged, sighing heavily.  "Thank you for helping me."

"_De nada_," she replied with a small smile.

************

"Agent Donovan, we'll be landing in Bogotá in a five minutes," the pilot's voice announced through the intercom.

 "We'll be meeting Colonel Sandoval when we land.  We'll leave directly for Bucaramanga in this baby," Frank said, kicking the tire of the green Hummer.  

"Will we be getting any assistance?" Jake wondered.

"Doubtful.  Agent Dumas was undercover without the permission of the authorities.  No matter what the political stance; they don't much care for our government interference."  He felt the plane making its descent and felt the odd flutter in his stomach he often felt during landings.

************

"Colonel Sandoval," Donovan greeted aloofly, extending a hand. 

"_Señor_ Donovan," he acknowledged.

Donovan's eyes narrowed at the Colonel's obvious disregard for his government status.  "Sir, we understand your reluctance to get involved, however, we will not tolerate any interference in our mission."

"I assure you, _Señor_, we have no wish to bother with you at all," he stated, matter-of-factly.

Donovan shot the hateful man a stern look and turned his attention to Jake as the Hummer was driven down the cargo ramp.  "Get in...we have over 75 miles to cover before nightfall."

Jake didn't need to be told twice; he hurried to the vehicle and climbed in the passenger side.  "The Colonel didn't try to hide his irritation," he commented once Frank was seated behind the wheel.

"No, he didn't."  Donovan started the Hummer's engine and left the Bogotá airport behind in a cloud of dust.

************

Fallon struggled against the ropes that bound her arms and legs to the chair, but her energy failed her.  Maria had brought her a glass of water to quench her thirst, with Miguel's permission, after she had tended to her wounds.  Every inch of her body was in pain and was getting worse by the moment.  She was thankful that the swelling around her left eye was starting to subside and she was now able to see through a narrow slit.

She heard voices outside the door and strained to hear them more clearly.  She could hear Miguel speaking with someone, but she couldn't hear his voice plainly.  Miguel mentioned the videotape sent to DEA headquarters and an extraction team was on the way and that Jorge sent instructions to send some men to intercept them.

"Damn," she swore, hating herself for endangering fellow agents.  _Why in the hell are they sending a team in?  Any fool in charge would write me off for dead._

"JORGE!" she screamed, demanding attention, which she got when the door flew open and Miguel glared at her.

"_Cierre para arriba, puta_!" He shouted.

Fallon watched silently as Jorge brought the butt of his gun down on the back of Miguel's head and the thug slumped to the floor.  He kicked Miguel's ribs roughly, turning him onto his back.  "I told you never to speak of her that way.  Now, get up and get that job done."

"Yes, Jorge," Miguel said, struggling to his feet.

"What job?" she asked when Miguel had left.

"You are about to be rescued, _cara_," he said with a sly smile.  "However, I think that event will be delayed, somewhat."

"What have you done, Jorge?" she demanded.

"It is no concern of yours, my beautiful Larissa," he said, before he kissed her bruised lips.

She wrenched her face away.  "You make me sick, Jorge.  Let those agents go.  Kill me if you must, but let them go."

He laughed wildly.  "But, _querida_, that was not the arrangement."

"What arrangement are you talking about?"

He just tsk-tsk'd her and left her alone in the empty room to worry over her fate and the fate of the team sent to rescue her.

To be continued...


	3. A Tale to Tell

Chapter Three

Donovan pulled the Hummer off the road.  "We need to cover this and pray it's still here when we get back."

Jake opened the rear hatch and pulled out a camouflage net and handed it to Donovan.  While he started to cover the Hummer from the front of the vehicle, Jake pulled out a backpack with night vision goggles, extra guns and ammo.  He strapped the pack onto this back and helped Donovan finish concealing the Hummer.

"How much farther is the compound?" Jake asked, following Donovan's lead through the dense underbrush.

"Seven miles or so," he answered shortly.

************

"_Senorita_ Larissa?" Maria spoke quietly.

Fallon raised her head slowly.  "Yes, Maria?"

"_Señor_ Jorge said to put this on, ¡_por_ _favor_!"  She placed a skimpy red dress on Fallon's lap.

"Maria, I'm tied up...naked and have to pee like a race horse.  How exactly do you expect me to put that on?"  Fallon asked angrily.

"Forgive me, _senorita_."  Maria knocked on the door and a guard entered.  He cut Fallon loose from the chair, his eyes lingering on her nude body.

Maria admonished him.  "_ Señor_ Jorge will cut your throat if he sees you looking at his woman that way!"  She shooed him out of the room and helped Fallon put the skin tight, low cut dress on.  "Come, we will go to the washroom so that you may...how you say?  'pee like a race horse'."  She chuckled as she opened the door and called to the guard.  

Fallon's wrists were handcuffed in front of her and she was led to the washroom by the guard, who waited in the doorway while she took care of her business.

"Might I, _please_, have some privacy?" She asked, irritated.

"No."

She shrugged.  "Can't blame a girl for trying," she said as she unabashedly hiked up the short skirt.

The guard shook his head and turned his back on her.

"Come, _senorita._  _Señor_ is expecting you for dinner."  Maria took her by the elbow and led her to the main house of the compound.  

"Ouch," she cried, stepping on the rough pebbles.  "Wish you'd have brought me some shoes, Maria."

"_ Señor_ said dress only.  If you have shoes, you will leave," she explained in her broken English.

"Yes," Fallon agreed.  "Of course, he's not stupid enough to think that would stop me."

The guard shoved her forward.  "_ Cierre para arriba, pu..."_

Fallon cut him off.  "It's one thing to tell me to shut up...but if you people call me a whore one more time..." 

************

The blanket of darkness closed in quickly as the sun set in the horizon.  By Donovan's calculations they were about six miles from Espinosa's compound.  His headache had finally subsided as his mind focused on other things, such as, staying alive.  He angrily swatted an annoying mosquito that landed on the back of his hand.

"Tell me something about her, Jake."  _Make her real to me, not just some picture in a dossier._

"She has one hell of a sense of humor...quite off the wall, actually.  For instance,  you know when they put you through some of the deprivation scenarios?" Jake asked, remembering the experiences at the training academy.

"Of course," Frank replied, moving through the thick foliage.

"Ouch," Jake cried out when Frank let go of a low hanging tree limb and it smacked him in the face.  "We had been going through the one where they deprived you of food and sleep for three days.  You weren't allowed to have any interaction with other people; you were completely isolated.  It was eerie.  I could hear her in the cubby next to me...singing, exercising...talking to herself."

"Yeah," Frank commented absently, keeping a watchful eye of their surroundings with the aide of the night vision goggles.

"So, the three day trial was over, and I go back to my room thinking how good sleep would feel.  I get to the room and open the door and my roommate's stuff is gone.  He dropped out.  There on the empty bed sat Fallon with a six pack of Bud and a large cheese pizza," Jake said, rattling on.

"Uh-huh."  _That must have been a pleasant shock_, he thought.

"I told her I was too tired to eat, maybe some other time.  She laughed and asked if I was too tired to do the horizontal mambo.  I thought I misheard her, but she seemed serious enough.  Well, hell, I'm a man...so, I perk right up, ya know?"  He chuckled, remembering Fallon's response.

"Sure," Donovan replied, reflexively, not entirely paying attention because something else had suddenly drawn his interest.

"Fallon laughed and shoved a piece of pizza in my mouth, saying 'why is it...you mention sex to a man and his flag pole immediately comes to attention?'  That was when I realized..."

"Shhh.." Frank hushed him.

"What is it?" Jake whispered.

"Heard something..." too late, he saw the flash of a muzzle as a shot rang out in the distance.  "Look out!" he yelled, pushing Jake into the brush.

He heard Jake groan.  "I'm hit!"

"Dammit."  Donovan took aim in the direction of the muzzle flash; saw a shadowy movement and triggered his Glock.  _One down_, he thought as he heard movement of another target nearby.  

Donovan ducked behind the cover of trees and waited.  He watched as a guerilla soldier neared Jake's position, checking the dense underbrush with his machine gun.  He crept up behind the man, grabbing him by the back of the head and chin and twisted violently, snapping his neck.  The man fell lifeless to the ground. 

"Jake, you okay?" he asked, reaching down to help Jake to his feet.

"Will be...bullet went through the meat of my thigh."  He groaned as he stood.

"Sit down," Frank insisted, pointing to a large, fallen log.

He dug out Jake's first aide kit, removed a pressure bandage and antiseptic and tended Jake's bullet wound.  "I need to find a safe place for you," he said, slapping Jake on the shoulder.

"I'll be fine, Frank," he insisted.  "I can make it."

"No way, Jake.  We might need to move fast."  He glanced around the area.  "There's an abandoned house about a half mile back."  He helped Jake to stand.

"You're not leaving me there." 

"Jake, be reasonable."  He began walking, supporting Jake's weight as he hobbled along side of him; he was fairly sure Jake was turned around enough not to realize they were headed back to the abandoned house.

************

"Dammit, Donovan...You're not leaving me here," Jake insisted again, when he saw the house come into view.

"Yes, I am," he stated flatly.

"Frank...I want to help Fallon."  

"Help her by staying here and taking care of yourself.  I'll be back for you ASAP."  He stopped when he reached the door.  "Jake...you're going to follow me, aren't you?"

"Damn right, I am." Jake said, emphatically, standing his ground as Frank closed the short distance between them.

"Thought so," he replied, and delivered a right hook to Jake's jaw, knocking him unconscious.  "You'll thank me later," Frank assured, laying him out on the small couch inside the house.

To be continued...


	4. Frank's Fate

Chapter Four

"You are not eating, _querida_," Jorge observed as Larissa pushed the grilled chicken and steamed vegetables around her plate.

Fallon sighed.  "What does it matter, Jorge?  I'll be dead soon."  She stood as if to leave and he came around the table in a flash to grab her by the arms.  "Just kill me and get it over with."

He pushed her up against the wall, grabbing a handful of her auburn hair and held it to his face.  "Why is it that you are in such a hurry to die, I wonder?"

"What is your plan, Jorge?  What do you intend to do with me?" she asked, although at the same time she was frightened to know the answer.

He nuzzled her neck as he roughly covered her breast with a possessive hand.  "I intend to use you one more time before I have to let you go."

"No," she asserted.  "You will never have me again.  I did what I had to do, but it was not something I _wanted_ or enjoyed.  I wasn't lying when I said I faked it.  I never loved you, Jorge."

His eyes filled with rage as he circled her throat with his left hand, choking her.  He balled up his right fist and pulled back his elbow to deliver a merciless blow.  Fallon closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable pain and the darkness that would follow.  

She slowly opened her eyes when the blow never landed and she realized Jorge's arm was being restrained.  "Roberto," she breathed in quiet relief.  He was alive!

"Yes, _cara_," he said, smiling.  "But not the Roberto you know."  He let loose Jorge's arm.  "Release her," he demanded.

Jorge grunted his disapproval and removed his hand from Fallon's throat.  She stared at Roberto in disbelief.  What a fool she had been.  Roberto had played her all along.  He was the head of this "family" and Jorge had been a deception.

"Why, Roberto?"

"I needed leverage to gain what I craved the most," he explained.  

"You talk in circles," she replied, irritated.  "Just tell me what you're after."

"Be patient, Fallon Dumas," he answered, accentuating her last name as if it had special meaning.

************

Donovan kept a steady pace through the lush foliage of the dense forest and he reached the compound without further trouble.  He took the time to survey the buildings and count the many guards that stood watch outside.   The building Fallon was being held in was heavily guarded.  He studied their patterns and timings, hoping to find a time when he could slip by without being spotted.  

Patience paid off, hours later when the guard at the rear of the building fell asleep, leaning against the wall.  He removed his goggles and headed toward the dimly lit area of the building.  Creeping silently toward the guard, he entered the building undetected.  He spotted a guard outside an interior room and moved stealthily behind the man.  He roughly clamped a hand over the man's mouth and wound his other arm around his neck, squeezing tightly until the man lost consciousness.

Opening the door slowly, he entered the room and found the female agent bound and gagged, lying on a small cot that was set up against the far wall of the room.  The only other exit from the room was a window mounted high up on the wall.  A table lamp lit the room, and he moved quickly to her side and removed her gag.  

"Get out...it's a trap," she whispered harshly.  Sky-blue eyes fixed on to deep brown eyes and pleaded for forgiveness.  "It was all a set up."

"Let's go," he said, cutting her bonds.  Trap or not, he wasn't about to leave without her.

"I do not think so, Mr. Donovan." 

Donovan froze at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, although his eyes never left Fallon's, not even when the barrel of a gun was placed against his temple.  Her eyes registered fear even as she fought to control it.  He realized then, that she had been the bait on the end of the hook that just sank itself deep into his flesh.  

"Get up, _cerdo,_" Roberto commanded, nudging Donovan roughly with the gun.  "Although I am saddened by the loss of my men, I knew the fact that they did not return meant that I would soon have exactly what I wanted."

He stood slowly, holding his gun by the butt with his fingertips and felt it jerked from his hand by someone behind him.  He stood motionless, watching the man from the video, Jorge, sit beside Fallon on the cot, holding her roughly by the arms.  He read the anguish in her eyes although her face was masked by detachment.  His arms were pulled behind him roughly and bound together by a thick rope; at the same time, another searched him and removed all the items in his pockets.  

"Now the fun begins," Roberto said, laughing maniacally.  He pushed Donovan forcibly in front of him, shoving him out of the room and down the small corridor to another room.

Donovan glanced around the nearly empty room.  It had a high vaulted ceiling with open wood beams.  In the middle of the room, from the main support beam, hung a harness device fixed with a pulley system.  Underneath it, raised on a four-foot platform, sat a large bluish metal tub filled to the rim with water.  Beside it, a garden hose sat docile, curled next to four car batteries connected together and hooked to a set of conductor cables.  _Oh yeah...I'm in for some **real** fun._

He heard a loud, horrified gasp and turned his head to see Agent Dumas being held brutally by Espinosa.  He groaned inwardly.  Not only would he be tortured, but in front of a fellow agent.  Sure, he'd been tortured before and lived through it, but it wasn't a pretty sight.  He would endure, he reassured himself...but would she?  Or would she interfere and endanger herself in the process?

Roberto shoved Donovan forward into the arms of his waiting men who led him up the steps of the platform and fastened him into the harness after removing his bonds long enough to remove his sweater, boots and socks.  His hands had been retied behind his back and he hung by the shoulder harness as Roberto cheerfully pulled on the rope that worked the pulley to raise him above the metal tub.  

Fallon watched with concealed horror as Donovan was raised above the tub and Roberto tied off the rope to hold him in place.  He smiled evilly as he picked up the hose and nodded toward Miguel who stood waiting by the water valve.  Roberto aimed the hose full blast at the agent's face.  He sputtered and turned his head from side to side to catch his breath.  

When Roberto felt he was sufficiently soaked, he dropped the hose and signaled to Miguel again, who climbed the platform and picked up the conductor cables.  

"Let's see what kind of man you are, Mr. Donovan," Roberto mocked.  "I want to hear you scream, _cerdo_."

Donovan heard Fallon plead "No!" when Miguel touched the cable into the water just as he was lowered enough for his feet to enter the water.  His body was immediately seized with convulsions as the shock waves of electricity hit him, but he kept his composure enough to release only a continual but nonetheless soft moan.  

Fallon let out her breath when Miguel removed the cable a mere five seconds later.  It felt like the longest five seconds of her life.

"You do not cry out, Mr. Donovan," Roberto observed, annoyed.  "I am very disappointed.  Perhaps we should try again, hmm?  A higher voltage, Miguel?"

Miguel grinned as he turned the knob of the control panel and touched the cable into the water again.  He laughed gleefully as the agent's body convulsed uncontrollably.  

His eyes closed in reflex and his face contorted with pain, and still he would not give his tormentor the satisfaction of more than the continual muted moans that escaped him as he fought against the agonizing spasms that wracked his body.

Fallon's stomach churned.  She would have rather taken a hundred of the beatings she had endured than to watch the revolting scene before her.  Hatred can turn men into demented animals, and Agent Donovan was paying for Roberto's dementia.

"Again!" Roberto commanded, over and over goaded by the fact Donovan would not scream out in pain.

Donovan hung limply, his body and mind tiring from the torment.  He was vaguely aware of a woman's voice pleading to let him down.  _Dead soon_, he thought.  

"_Coño!_" Roberto screamed.  "_El bastardo **will**_ cry out!"  He strode to the platform and turned the knob several notches.  "Do it!" He screamed at Miguel who nodded and touched the cable to the water.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Frank's torturous, earsplitting scream echoed through the empty room.

Fallon watched, terrified as the agent writhed in pain, his face contorted into a grotesque mask of agony as he screamed uncontrollably while the shockwaves tore his sanity to shreds.  One second...two...It slowed to a feeling of hours.  Fallon could stand it no longer.  Three seconds...she wrenched out of Jorge's grasp and ran to the platform.  Four seconds...she jumped onto the platform and flew at Miguel, knocking him over the edge, the cables along with him.

"Fallon!" Roberto yelled angrily.

"Cut him down, cut him down," she yelled, holding Donovan's body by the waist. 

"How dare you interfere?" Jorge demanded, pulling her away from the barely conscious agent.

"Let...me...go!" she screamed, fighting against his grasp.

"It is done, Jorge.  I heard what I wanted," Roberto said softly as he untied the rope that held Donovan suspended above the water.

Fallon kicked at Jorge's leg and he released her when she made contact with his shin.  She managed to grab Donovan around the waist as he fell to the platform.  She placed a hand under his chin and looked into dazed eyes, barely aware of his surroundings.  "Donovan..." she cried as he was pulled out of her grasp onto the floor below.  She scooped his sweater and boots into her arms when she fell on top of them.

Two men held him by the arms, and forced him to kneel before Roberto, who placed the barrel of his gun to Donovan's cheekbone.  "You are a strong man, Mr. Donovan.  I admire that," he admitted circling behind the agent.  "But that changes nothing.  I have plans for you."  He raised his hand and brought the butt end of the gun down hard against the back of Donovan's skull.

His last thought, before a well of excruciating pain brought on the spiraling darkness that sent him into oblivion, was that he hoped Jake would make it out alive.


	5. Wake up, Frank!

Chapter Five

Jake slowly opened his eyes to the darkness of the abandoned house.  He sat up slowly, rubbing his swollen jaw, trying to remember how he got in the unfamiliar house.  Frank!  _Damn you, Donovan!  _He stood quickly as anger overshadowed his memory and a stabbing pain brought back the recollection of his bullet wound and he sat back down quickly.  

He wondered how long he had been out and check the time on his watch.  It was nearly dawn...he had been out all night!  He promised himself he would beat the hell out of his boss when he saw him again...he just prayed he would—and soon!

************

_He looks so tormented and vulnerable while he sleeps,_ she thought.  She had sat by his side; unable to touch him or comfort him in any way during the many hours he lay unconscious.  Her hands were cuffed behind her back and she had merely been able to murmur softly to him while he called out in his sleep or shook violently with the aftereffects of the electroshock.    

Darkness surrounded him like a thick blanket and he fought against it.  A sense of urgency heightened his awareness and he finally broke through the veil of unconsciousness when he felt something shake him and an annoying noise filled his ears.

"Hey," Fallon called again, bumping her shoulder against the cot, jarring Donovan, hoping to bring him out of unconsciousness.  "Hey, wake up!"  She said louder, shaking him again.

"Please...be quiet," Frank growled, although he soon realized it wasn't the female agent's voice that had grated on his nerves, it was the awful buzzing in his ears.  Fallon had a soft, melodious voice that would normally sound pleasant and enthralling, but the headache he received for his troubles felt like it was going to split his skull in two and any noise was amplified 100 fold.

"Hey, I'm just trying to get you to wake up," she snapped, looking the man over carefully.  "You okay?"  She asked, her voice softening immediately.  She knew he couldn't be doing too well after the torture he went through.

With eyes still closed, he nodded his head slightly and immediately regretted the action when the throbbing increased.  _Okay? he thought.  __Hell no!  My head's about to explode and every muscle in my body aches!  "Yeah," he lied, opening his eyes, seeing her sitting on the floor next to the cot, her hands cuffed behind her.  "You?"_

Fallon thought about it.  Her entire body ached.  "Yeah, fine," she lied in return.  

"How long have I been out?" he asked, struggling to turn on his side to work on the ropes that bound his hands behind him.

"I don't have a watch...not that I could see it, but I'll go out on a limb here and say about 16 hours."  She nodded at the look of disbelief on his face.  "Hey...I'm surprised you even woke up."  She leaned back against the cot, struggling with her own bonds, her head braced against his bare chest.  "Who are you?"  There was something oddly familiar about the handsome agent and yet she couldn't quite place it.

"Frank Donovan, Justice Department," he said, wondering if there was something wrong with his hearing.  He was having trouble hearing her over the loud roaring in his ears.  He grunted when she jerked suddenly and her head contacted his chin.

"Oops, sorry," she said, grinning as she turned to look at him.  "JD?  Why the hell would DEA send _you_?"  She wondered.  

"Special ops," he explained, stretching his neck in all directions trying to relieve some of his pain.  

"Sorry for you," she said, hanging her head slightly as she again struggled with the cuffs that held her.  "You were their target."

"Me?  Hell, I don't even know Jorge Espinosa, although it was apparent he is not the man in charge," he stated, watching her closely.  She was a looker--that was for sure.  It was apparent, even through the bruises.  Her skimpy dress left very little to the imagination and he could see why Jake wanted to save her so badly.    

"You're right, Jorge's not in charge...that was just a front," she explained quickly, hearing the sounds of people approaching.

"That is the truth, Frank Donovan," Roberto confirmed, looking down at the agent lying on the cot.  "I have waited a long time for my revenge."

Donovan's expressionless eyes wandered over him.  "I have no idea who you are."

Roberto shrugged.  "It makes little difference.  I know who you are, that is what is important."

"What do you want?" Donovan asked, taking on the appearance of complete composure.

"Your head on a platter...or your brains scattered across that wall behind you.  That will do for starters."  Roberto smiled evilly, shoving a gun under his chin.  "Yes, that will do nicely."

"Roberto, why?" Fallon asked, still unable to put any of the pieces to this absurd puzzle together.

"Tomorrow...tomorrow is the anniversary of my brother's death."  He trailed the tip of the gun up Donovan's cheek and pressed it into his closed eye.  "You knew him...Agent Donovan.  You helped to have him killed."

Donovan's mind raced...a year ago.  A year ago they were sent to bring Armando Uribe back to the United States to stand trial.  _Uribe had a brother?_

"I can see your mind is working through the circumstances surrounding my brother's death.  Let me help you.  Because of you, Armando was killed while in prison awaiting trial in your United States.  So...Agent Donovan...you have until sunrise to live.  That is when a bullet will end your life and release mine."  

Fallon let out the breath she had been holding as soon as Roberto left the room.  "Sweet Jesus, what is he talking about?"

"Armando Uribe," he replied simply.

"Now I know why you were so familiar to me.  I studied your reports and some of your missions here in Colombia with the CIA.  I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but somehow I have a feeling you'd rather be somewhere hanging out with your friends drinking beer or eating pizza."  She smiled softly, thinking that he did not strike her as a man who did either of those things.

"Jake," he whispered.  Just before they were attacked Jake had been talking about eating pizza and drinking beer...with _her_.

"What did you say?" she asked, her face clouding with pain as she jerked against the handcuffs.

"Jake...he said the two of you went through Quantico together," he explained.

"Jake Shaw?  Daay-um," she cursed.  "How's the little street punk these days?"

"Shot and bleeding about three miles from here," he disclosed.

"Shit."  

Donovan nodded and was amazed he had the urge to laugh at her even as his head protested the movement he made.  "Yes, that sums it right up...shit."

"Argh," she grunted and let loose a stream of four-letter words. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, frowning.  

"Trying...to...dislocate...sonofabitch," she hissed, pulling her left wrist out of the cuff.  "Dislocate my thumb so I could get out of these friggin' things."  Fallon grabbed her left hand with her right and, with another string of obscenities, jerked the thumb back into place.  She attached the dangling end of the cuffs to her right wrist before kneeling next to him.  

"Thank God, they only tied you."  She worked at the knot until it gave enough slack for him to slip his wrists from the bonds.  She helped him sit up.  "You think you're up for making a run for it?"  He looked pale and weak and she worried that he would not be able to travel the jungle on foot.

"I'm sure as hell not going to stick around here to see what other little pleasantries Uribe has in store for me," he said, angrily.  

She nodded.  "You might want to put these on," she said, tossing him his sweater and pulling his boots from underneath the cot.  "Not that I'm complaining about the view, mind you."  She licked her lips enticingly and ran a hand softly over the muscles of his chest. 

He gave her an odd look as he slid his feet into the boots.  He saw the mischievous glint in her eye and forced himself not to grin.  "You have an odd sense of humor." 

"Oh, you think I'm joking?" she said with a smile as she laced his boots.  "I may be a captive, but I'm not blind...or dead." She pushed the sweater down over his head.  "Put your arms in the little holes," she teased.

He rolled his eyes as he put his arms into the sleeves.  "Why is it undercover agents are so odd?"

"Odd that I think you're yummy?" Fallon teased, trying to keep his mind off his pain.

He had a feeling he wouldn't win with this girl.  Deciding to change the subject, he gave her a quick once over.  "You won't last long out there, wearing that outfit and traipsing through the jungle without shoes."

"Unless you brought me a change of clothes," she said, standing on tiptoe to check the window that was high up on the wall.  "I think I better keep this dress on...that is...unless you _want_ me naked.  That might be arranged," she said with a wink.

Donovan blinked.  Was she completely insane?  Jake had said something about her propositioning him at Quantico...

"Hey, I'm just kidding.  Coast's clear," she said, opening the window.  "Give me a boost, will ya?"

He shook his head and cursed himself for the movement.  He had to remember to stop agitating his headache.  He placed his hands at her waist and lifted her to the window.  He gulped audibly when he realized she had nothing on under the dress.  Giving her a boost upward gave him a clear view of what her dress didn't outwardly reveal.  He felt a twinge of guilt and quickly averted his eyes.  When she pulled herself up, she sat on the sill and held her hand out to help him up.   The effort made him slightly dizzy and he fought back the wave of nausea that came with the spell.

As soon as they cleared the window, Fallon headed for the seclusion of the nearby jungle.  He ran after her, holding a hand to the back of his head.  The knot that formed from the crack to the head he took was enormous and was covered with dried blood.  He was starting to feel dizzy again and wasn't sure if he could keep up with Fallon, who had gotten quite a lead on him.  He was amazed how quickly she traversed the terrain in her bare feet.  Of course, when you're being chased by the devil, you don't stop to remove a pebble from your shoe.


	6. The Painful Escape

Chapter Six

Frank watched her walk ahead of him, negotiating her way through the jungle foliage without complaint.  Her feet had to be torn to shreds, but she kept going without a complaint.  

He felt weak and disoriented and his vision blurred slightly and he blinked to get it back in focus.  He gingerly rubbed the back of his head and felt the dried blood peel away revealing the large gash it had hidden.  It was no great wonder his head hurt like hell.  He focused on the red dress again and noticed she had put quite a distance between them.  "Fallon?"

Fallon had kept a good pace, considering she had to put all her concentration into forgetting her feet felt like they were going through a meat slicer.  She had been unaware of how far her "rescuer" had fallen behind until he called out her name.  

"Hold up a minute," he requested, sitting on a large hollow log as another wave of dizziness hit him.  He tried to shake it off, but that only made the pain in his head worse and made him so nauseous he felt close to vomiting.  He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

"You okay?' she asked, heading back in his direction.   
  
"I'll be fine.  Head hurts like hell," he admitted.

Fallon nodded in sympathy.  "Roberto cracked you a good one," she replied.    She knew he was fighting more than the crack to the skull.  His whole body was weakened from the torture he had endured.  Still, she admired the wealth of strength he had to possess to be able to endure what he had.  "Are we still heading northeast?"

"Yes," he answered, leaning back and jerked his head in her direction with a curse when he heard her quick intake of breath.  He saw the reason for her alarm just a few seconds too late and drew back in pain as the nearly four-foot snake sunk its fangs into the meat of his calf and he offhandedly noted it was dark gray in color and had black-edged diamond shapes running down the length of its body.

Fallon grabbed the snake by the neck and flung it into the trees.  "Jesus, Donovan!  That was a Fer-de-lance...very poisonous and very deadly."

"Thanks for the news flash.  You forgot that it hurts like a sonofabitch," he swore as the liquid fire of the venom attacked his blood and skin cells with scorching pain.  "It feels like hot sauce on a cut, only worse."  

"Shit, shit, shit," Fallon expressed, kneeling at his feet.  "Damn that fucking Roberto," she further cussed, checking through the pockets of his cargo pants.  "We don't have anything to treat you with...and it's too dangerous for you to move."

"I'll be fine.  We're almost at the place I left Jake.  He still has his first aid kit...it has anti-venom."  He bit back a groan; his leg was on fire...he knew the poison was spreading fast.  

"Damn!" she cursed.  She had to do something, and fast!  "Frank...I'm going to find Jake and get that serum..."

"No, I can make it," he insisted, trying to stand; however his head had other ideas.  His vision blurred worse than before and he felt he was on the verge of passing out.  He slumped back down to the log with a heavy sigh of defeat.  

"There's no time to argue," she asserted.  "I'll be back as fast as I can...and you better be alive, Donovan...or I'll kill you myself."  She winked and ran in the direction he had indicated earlier.

He didn't reply, there was no need.  He was too weak to argue with her and he would need all his strength to fight the snake's deadly poison.  He leaned back against the log and prayed she would hurry back...and no more snakes would come his way.  

************

Hearing the rustling of leaves and twigs snapping in the early morning hours, Jake made his way to the door hopping on one foot.  He opened it just as Fallon rushed onto the small porch.  

"Jake!" she cried, flinging her arms around him, nearly knocking him over.  "Give me your first aid kit!"

"Its nice to see you too," he laughed, untangling himself from her.  "Where's Frank?"

"He's hurt..." she replied as she patted him down trying to find the kit.  "Snakebite...give me the kit already!"  

"Here, here," he said, pulling one of the side pockets of his cargo pants open.

"Stay safe," she yelled, unsheathing the bowie knife from his hip before she turned and ran back in the direction she came.

Jake called out her name, but she made no indication she was going to stop.  Ignoring the throbbing of his leg wound, Jake followed her, hobbling as quickly as he could manage.

  
************

Roberto, along with Jorge, made his way to the barn in the early morning light.  It was time to send the woman back to her people as the bargain had dictated.  It was also time to send _el __Diablo to hell, where he belonged._

The thought of killing Donovan quickened Roberto's pace.  He had dreamed of this moment many times over the past year.  Oh, how he had adored his older brother and grieved unendingly for his loss.  Yes, _el Diablo would die this day._

"_¡Madre Dios!" Jorge exclaimed upon entering the empty room._

Roberto stared unbelievingly at the opened window.  He turned enraged eyes to the guard who had stood watch outside the door.  "How could this happen?"

"I...I did not hear anything," the guard stammered.

"Nor shall you in the future," Roberto replied, raising a gun to the man's chest, firing a bullet into his heart.  He watched unfeelingly as the dying man slumped to the floor.  "Get some men...we go on the hunt."

************

Sweat pored over her face and trickled down her neck as Fallon tore through the jungle underbrush, the morning sun was already heating the air.  She gasped in relief as she saw Frank lying with his back propped up against the hollow log.  "You still alive, Donovan?" she asked, breathless, as she knelt beside him.  

"Think so," he croaked through a mouth that had become increasingly numb and filled with the taste of metal during the time she was gone.  "Cold...so cold," he whispered as he shivered violently and closed his eyes.

Fallon's brow creased in a worried frown.  He was covered in sweat and yet he was cold.  She took Jake's bowie knife and cut away the material of his left pants leg.  "Sweet Jesus!" She exclaimed.  The snakebite was clearly visible, the wound had turned a sickly red color around the immediate area and his calf had swollen enormously.  

She flipped the first aide kit open and hastily looked through the contents.  "Yes! Thank you, God!" she praised as she ripped open the package containing the Sawyer's Extractor.  She quickly judged which of the plastic cups best covered the bitten area and attached it to the pump.  "At least I won't have to cut you open," she told him as she covered the wound with the extractor pump.  

Jake lumbered up beside her, panting heavily from the heat and exertion.  "Frank," he whispered.  "How is he?" he asked as he crouched down.

"Pretty bad shape, Jake," Fallon admitted, without looking up.  She began working the plunger on the extractor and watched with awe as the venom mixed with blood was sucked into the cup. "He has a fever and his breathing is short and raspy."  

"Get the anti-venom ready for injection," she instructed as she dumped the toxic liquid from the small cup before she placed it back over the bite wound and resumed the extraction.  "I think I've done as much with this as I can."  

"Here," Jake said, handing her the injection.  "Did you get all the venom out?"

"No.  These things work best if applied within five to 10 minutes.  I was gone longer than that."  She shook her head, not sure if she had done him any good at all.  

Jake watched his boss' face worriedly.  He was pale, covered in sweat and his breathing was barely audible.  "Don't worry, Frank.  We'll get you out of this."

Donovan struggled to open eyelids that felt heavy and unresponsive.  He saw a blurry Jake through the narrow slits that opened for him.  "Thirsty," he whispered.  

Jake reached for the canteen still clipped to his belt.  He poured a small amount into the cup that acted as the cap of the canteen and held it to Frank's lips. He watched Fallon out of the corner of his eye and noticed her bruised face and the cuts along her legs and arms.  "How're you holding up?"

"Hey...don't worry about me," she said with a small smile.  "Let's focus on the big guy, here.  He's most important now." 

Frank reached up weakly to grasp the cup, but the numbness that had formed in his extremities prevented even that small function.  He dropped his arm down and sipped from the cup that Jake held for him.  With only enough energy to take a few sips, he slumped back against the tree.  "Thanks, Jake," he labored.

Fallon tested the needle, expelling some of the anti-venom.  "This is normally given intravenously, but the antidote in the kits are supposed to be diluted enough to inject directly," she explained as she inserted the needle into his arm.  "Let's pray he isn't allergic." 

"What happens if he is?" Jake asked worriedly.

"You don't want to find out," she answered.


	7. A Heavy Burden

Thank you for all the encouraging reviews!  They truly make my day as well as being a reward for the effort of writing.  Thank you!!!

Chapter Seven

Fallon took a patch of gauze and wiped the sweat from Frank's face.  "He's burning up, but we can't risk giving him anything else.  Pit viper venom is a hemotoxin," she explained as Jake shot her a questioning look.  "It corrupts blood cells, prevents blood from clotting, damages the vessels and causes them to leak.  It can cause internal bleeding, heart, respiratory and kidney failure.  We just have to pray his body is strong enough and the anti-venom does its job."  That was what worried her the most.  Would he be strong enough to fight for his life after going through all that agonizing torture?

"You a doctor or something?" Jake questioned.

"No, but I did my research on this place.  I wanted to be prepared," she explained.

"How long before we know if he'll be all right?"

"Twenty-four hours, maybe."  She shrugged, continuing to dab the sweat from Frank's face.  "And he has to remain immobile."

"We can't stay here," Jake said, throwing up his hands.  

"No, _really_?" she replied, sarcastically.  "Help me get him over my shoulder so I can carry him back to that little shack you were staying at."

"I'll carry him," Jake said, stubbornly.  

"Yeah, right...your leg barely supports you," she reminded him.  "You're as stubborn as he is.  Help get him over my shoulder; I can carry him.  You just keep a clear path for me to walk, okay?"

Jake nodded reluctantly as he helped get Frank to his feet.  Fallon leaned over and took him at the waist over her right shoulder and slowly stood, holding him by his legs.  He groaned audibly as he dangled precariously over her shoulder, his upper torso so long his head rested against her buttocks and his arms dangled with his hands nearly touching the ground.

"You okay?" Jake asked, seeing her struggle with Frank's weight.

"Yeah," she grunted and began the slow trek back to the shack.

Fallon labored through the underbrush, grimacing as she moved over the terrain.  Each step was painful, punctuated by the additional weight she carried.  Once she stubbed her toes again a tree root and nearly fell to the ground.  Thankfully Jake was only a couple steps in front of her and turned quickly to catch her and help keep her and Frank upright.

"Remind me to tell Donovan to go on a diet," she joked with a painful groan, stepping on a large pebble.

"No way.  You don't fuck with that guy," he stated flatly.

"Gee, too bad.  I would think that would be one thing he'd be excellent at."

Jake stopped in his tracks and shot her a look.  "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Sure, why else would I be a DEA agent?" she replied with a labored smirk.  "Thank God!" she exclaimed, seeing the shack.  

Once inside, Jake helped her lay Frank on the small couch.  His long body didn't fit and his legs dangled over the end.  His face had become flush with color from the blood rushing to his head and Fallon worried about how much harm the trek had done to him.  "We'll need to prop him up, his leg should be kept lower than his heart."  

"Hold on, I'll move him," Jake said, repositioning Frank so that he reclined on the couch and his legs rested outstretched in front of him.

"Are there any provisions in this house?  Blankets? Anything?" she asked, glancing around.

"Not much.  There are a couple cots in the other room; I'll go check."  He came back moments later with a worn blanket and a small pillow.  

"Thanks," she said, tucking the pillow under Frank's head and covering him with the blanket.  "Now, all we can do is keep him comfortable and wait."

"We can't stay here."  

"He shouldn't be moved.  Carrying him this far might have done irrevocable damage," she explained.  "Besides, I can't carry him to Bogotá."

"You won't have to if we can get him to the Hummer.  It's stashed about three miles from here," he explained as he seated himself in a nearby chair.  "If we could fashion some kind of stretcher to carry him..."

Fallon nodded, as she touched her hand to Frank's forehead.  His skin felt like it was on fire.  "It would be slow going, but better than being a sitting duck.  Roberto and Jorge must have discovered us missing by now."

"Roberto?" Jake asked.  

"Uribe," she said, moving past Jake into the small kitchen.

"As in Armando?"

"Yes, his younger brother.  He conned me...I thought he was an underling that wanted to help bring Jorge Espinosa down.  Jorge was just the front man.  Roberto was the one in charge.  It was all a set up to capture an agent and exchange their life for setting Donovan up."  She knelt by the couch with a basin of water she had just filled in the kitchen and took the gauze, wet it and began to bath his face.

"Holy shit."

"Yes, holy shit," Fallon smirked.  "What I'd like to know is...who is the asshole who arranged the switch?"

Jake shrugged.  "We were contacted by Tom Renquist."  

Fallon's head shot up quickly to stare at him.  "Renquist isn't DEA...he's CIA."

"Whatever.  He was adamant that we were under orders to extract you."  Jake stood and limped into the room that served as a bedroom.  "Hey!  I could collapse one of these cots and make a stretcher from that."

"Sure, Jake.  Sounds good," she agreed, distracted by the news Jake had just delivered.  _Why would he agree to it?_ She wondered as she struggled to take the sweater off of Donovan to bathe his chest.  She wrung out the gauze and swabbed his chest and shoulders gently.  Even though her thoughts about Renquist troubled her, she could not help running her fingers lightly over the agent's well formed chest.  "My, but you're beautiful," she whispered, as she touched her fingertips to his full lower lip.

Donovan moaned and she pulled her hand away, embarrassed.  Jake returned carrying one of the cots he mentioned.  Its legs were folded under and he had tied them in place with some twine he had found.  "We can carry him on this," he stated proudly.

Fallon pulled the blanket up to cover Donovan's bare chest.  "Yes, that should work.  We'll leave as soon as I do something about my feet.  Are there any more blankets?"

Jake shook his head.  "One blanket...one pillow.  There's nothing else in this dump."

Fallon nodded and walked over to Jake and grabbed his shirtsleeves at the shoulder and tugged violently, ripping the sleeves off.  "Hey!" he shouted.  "What'd ya do that for?"

"I need to wrap my feet...they're tore to shreds," she explained, opening the first aid kit and removing the antiseptic.  

"Oh," he replied, watching her clean her wounded feet with the antiseptic before wrapping them with his shirtsleeves.  

"At least I'll have a little barrier between my skin and the ground," she said with a smirk.  "Let's get the big guy outta here."  

  
Jake laid the makeshift stretcher beside the couch and they lifted him from it onto the stretcher.  Fallon went to the door and opened it, gasped and shut it quickly.

"What is it?" Jake asked.

"Roberto and his men...they found us," she replied, backing up against the door.


	8. Standoff at the O.K. Corral

Chapter Eight

"Great...just great," Jake spat, looking carefully out the window.  "There are six of them.  We have no choice.  We'll have to stand our ground and fight."

Fallon nodded as she scrambled back to Frank's side.  "I have an idea," she said, pulling Frank's sweater over her head.  It smelled of him, musky and all man.  It hung down to the middle of her thighs and covered her better than the dress, although she did have to roll up the sleeves to expose her hands.  She knelt down beside the ailing agent and touched his cheek softly.  She made a promise to herself that if they lived through this nightmare, she was going to find out just how sweet those full lips tasted.  She looked up to find Jake staring at her in bewilderment.  "Toss me a gun and an extra clip."

Jake gave up one of his guns and a clip of ammo.  "Be careful," he said as he watched her slip out the back window.

"Come on out Donovan!  We know you're in there," Roberto yelled.  "Come out and we won't kill the woman."

Jake didn't respond.  Best they don't know how many people were in the shack and that Donovan was out cold.

"If you don't come out," Jorge threatened.  "We will make you watch as the _puta_ is raped and tortured."

Jake turned his head sharply when he heard a moan escape Frank.  His eyes were slightly open, his body wracked with shudders.  Jake wasn't sure if he was conscious or having a reaction to the anti-venom.  Either way, it scared the living hell out of him.

"Jake," he called hoarsely.  "Give me a gun."

"No," he whispered.  "Fallon has my other gun."

"Where," he asked, trying to look around.  

"She's outside, trying to outflank them."  Jake went to his side and knelt down.  "You need to be quiet.  They don't know who's in here or that you're injured."

Frank nodded slightly and blinked his eyes.  He could feel the darkness trying to suck him back down and tried to fight it, but it was a battle he lost as he drifted back into unconsciousness.

Jake moved back to the window and peered out.  Two men approached the stairs and Jake took aim, firing quickly, dropping the men to the ground.  "Four," he said to no one.

Fallon skirted the surrounding area, silently making her way behind the men that stood outside the small shack.  She dropped to the ground when she heard the shots before she realized they came _from_ the shack.  She looked through the brush to see two of Roberto's men lying dead on the ground.  

"I have called for more men, _Diablo_," Roberto screamed.  "You _will_ die today, this I promise you!"  

*_click_* Roberto, Jorge and the remaining men turned at the sound of a gun being cocked.  "_Puta_," Jorge spat.

"The devil, you say?" she quipped.  "Drop your weapons and get your ugly faces down in the dirt!"  

"_Cara_," Roberto said sweetly, "Why do you fight?  Your life was never truly in danger.  All has been arranged for your safe return."

"Shut up, Roberto.  You think I'd sit idly by while you kill fellow agents?  You're insane."

While Roberto distracted her, Jorge lunged for her weapon.  His action caused the other two men to rush the house.  Fallon squeezed the trigger of the gun just as Jorge tackled her, sending both of them to the ground.  She heard further shots and glanced at the shack to see Jake take out the two men that rushed for the cabin.  Only Roberto remained standing.

Jorge, who lay limply across her chest, was smothering Fallon.  She pushed him off with concerted effort and he rolled lifelessly away from her.

Roberto glanced sorrowfully at his dead friend before turning hateful eyes on Fallon.  "Now you die," he threatened as he raised his gun.

Fallon closed her eyes and flinched when she heard the shot, but opened them moments later when she realized she hadn't been hit.  She watched as Roberto slumped to his knees, the gun falling from his fingertips, a surprised look on his face.

She stumbled back to the shack, her knees shaking from the near death experience.  Jake opened the door and she collapsed into his arms.  "You okay?" she asked.

He laughed.  "Yeah, how about you?"

She smiled weakly.  "I'll live.  How's the big guy?"

"He woke for a moment, but he's out again," Jake told her as she went to sit beside Frank.

"At least we don't have to worry about being hunted on the trek back to your Hummer," she said as she felt Donovan's forehead.  "He's burning up."  She pulled the basin of water toward her and began bathing his face again.

"Are you sure?  He said he called for more men."

Shaking her head she replied, "It won't matter.  When they find him dead they will stop the search.  He can't pay them now that he's dead.  They're loyal to his money."  She pulled the blanket down to his waist and bathed his arms, neck and chest.  He murmured as if frightened by a dream and she shushed him softly.  

"We need to get him to a hospital," Jake said, helping Fallon to her feet.  "Let's go."  They lifted the stretcher onto the couch and Jake took up the front, holding his end behind him.  Fallon took the end where Frank's head lay.  "I'm ready," she said.  

************

"Jake, let's stop a minute," Fallon suggested when Donovan began to thrash about on the stretcher.  

Jake came to a halt and they lowered Frank slowly to the ground.  They had barely made it half way to the Hummer.  Having to carry Frank and the added burden of Jake's own injury made the going slow.  "What's the matter?" he asked as Fallon knelt beside Frank, trying to hold him still, speaking to him softly to calm him in his delirium.

"The fever, I guess.  I think he's getting worse and it will be difficult to carry him while he's thrashing about."  She reached for Jake's canteen and poured a small amount of water into it.  "Frank," she said, loudly and she shook him gently.  "Can you hear me?  Wake up, Frank!"

"Hmmmwake," he said, incoherently.  His eyes opened slightly after some effort he could make out a shape hovering over him.  "Help me up," he ordered softly.

Fallon laughed.  "Ah, how refreshing...a superman complex."  

"Stay still, Frank," Jake admonished.  "You're battling a snakebite."

Frank nodded as if he just remembered what happened to him.  "Think it's winning," he joked weakly.

"That's not funny," Fallon glared down at him.  "Here, drink some water."

"Sure, but could you stand still?  You're making me dizzy," he said, his head collapsing back onto the stretcher.  

"He's out cold," Jake observed.

"Yup.  I wish he would have drank this," she said, drinking the water herself and handing the cup back to Jake.

He attached it to the canteen and refastened it to his hip.  "Let's go."

************

"There it is," Jake called, seeing the camouflaged Hummer.  He had never been so happy to see a vehicle in his life.  His leg throbbed unmercifully and he could feel himself getting weak.  He probably couldn't have carried Frank much further if he had to.

"Good, let's make room in the back so we don't have to move him off the stretcher," Fallon suggested as they lowered Donovan to the ground.

They quickly rearranged the supplies to make room to slide the stretcher in the back.  "Get in there with him," Fallon ordered and smiled when he frowned at her.  "I'm familiar with the area, besides you need to give that leg a rest and you can keep him still while you're doing that." 

He nodded and climbed in the back with his boss and braced the stretcher with his good leg to keep it from moving around when Fallon started the Hummer and steered it out from underneath its cover.  "We'll head for Bucaramanga, it's closest and we can get him proper treatment for that snakebite and...someone to look at your leg."

"I'm fine," he replied as Frank moaned and he checked his temperature.  He was still burning up.

Fallon raced down the dirt roads to Bucaramanga, the closest town near the compound.  She glanced between the driver and passenger seat and noticed a satellite uplink.  "This thing work?" she yelled to Jake.

"Yes.  Just pick up the phone...it will automatically connect with our team."

She nodded and placed the handset to her ear.  "Hello?"

"Who is this?" 

"Who is this?" Fallon demanded.

"Agent Cody Forrester, ma'am."

"You know a Cody Forrester?" Fallon yelled to Jake, wanting to make sure she didn't speak to someone who would give them away.

"Sure...computer geek...goofball...all-around pain-in-the-ass." 

Fallon laughed into the receiver.  "Okay, Jake says he knows you."

"Jake!" Cody exclaimed.

Fallon could hear female voices in the background.  "Jake? Is that Jake? What's happening?"

"This is Agent Fallon Dumas.  We're heading for the hospital in Bucaramanga, Colombia.  Agents Shaw and Donovan have been injured," she explained.

"Injured?" Cody questioned.

"Yes.  Shaw has a gunshot wound to the thigh and Donovan has a possible concussion and was bit by a Fer-de-Lance."  

"Sheesh, Fal," Jake groaned.  "Just make us sound like total incompetents."

Fallon laughed as she winked at Jake.  "Just for the record, they aren't total incompetents."

"Damn you, Fallon," Jake laughed good-naturedly.

"Fer-de-what?" Cody asked, perplexed.

"A pit viper, Agent Forrester.  Most deadly snake in Central and South America."

"How is he?"

"Unconscious.  We'll be at the hospital in ten minutes.  Look...is Renquist with you?" 

"Renquist?  No, why?"

"Find him and tell him to get his happy ass on the next flight to Bogotá and meet me in Bucaramanga so I can break his fucking neck!"  With that, she slammed the handset back down into its cradle and turned her full attention to the road and getting Donovan the help he needed.


	9. Driving Lessons and Misunderstandings

April 29, 2002 -  *whew* got lucky people.  The power is out all over the city of Jacksonville because of an explosion at the northside powerplant.  I even closed the office down early because of it...but, viola...power's on in my little part of town!  So I can post the next chapter of this little fic. :)

Chapter Nine  

Jake couldn't help laughing at Fallon and what she said.  He could actually picture the look of disbelief pasted on Cody's face.

"What are _you_ laughing at?" Fallon asked, glancing in the review mirror.

Before Jake had a chance to answer, Frank moaned, and his body shuddered violently.  "Frank?" Jake said, worriedly.  Frank didn't react to Jake's voice or wake, although his breathing became rapid and shallow.  He felt Frank's forehead and found it seemed his fever had gotten worse, if possible.

"Frank? Can you hear me?" Jake asked frantically. 

"What's wrong?!" Fallon asked, checking the mirror again.  Jake's voice sounded shaky and nervous with fear.

Jake shook his head and locked eyes with Fallon in the rearview mirror.  "I don't know..." 

Fallon tried to decide whether or not to stop the Hummer and check on him, but she knew she had to get him to the hospital fast, especially if he was getting worse. If she stopped now, the delay in getting him to the hospital could kill him.

Fallon gasped when she heard Frank suddenly cry out in pain, and despite herself, she jammed on the brakes. Turning around, she saw that Jake had his hands on Frank's arms, trying to keep him still. She almost cried when she saw Frank's face; pale and sweaty, his eyes shut tight in pain.

"Sweet Jesus!" she exclaimed.  "Jake...he's so pale!"  Jake nodded absently as he continued to hold Frank down.  Her mind raced, trying to remember what she had been told about circulation and proper blood flow.  "If the face is red—raise the head.  If the face is pale—raise the tail," she recited aloud.   

"What?" 

"Raise his legs...just a little," she said, turning back to the wheel to resume the drive and slammed her foot on the gas pedal, a little too hard. "Sorry!" she yelled, when she heard Jake gasp in surprise.

"Try to avoid the bumps!" Jake called out.

Fallon didn't know if he was being sarcastic or not. "Shut up!"

"WHOA!"

Jake was nearly thrown forward when the Hummer stopped suddenly. "WHAT?" he yelled.

"A tree! There's a fucking _tree_ in the way! We have to move it!"

Jake's jaw dropped. "You're kidding, right?" he asked, even though he knew she wasn't callous enough to joke about that as Frank lay dying in the back of the vehicle.

"Do I _sound_ like I'm kidding?" she yelled back, jumping out of the Hummer.

Jake lumbered out of the back and ran to Fallon's side.  She stood staring at the fallen trunk as if she could will it to get up and move itself.

"How are we going to move this damn thing?  It must weight a ton."

"Wench," Jake stated plainly, and was shocked when she turned around and slapped him in the face.

"It's not my fault there's a tree in the middle of the road!  There's no need to call me names!" She yelled, placing her hands on her hips and stomping her foot.  "Ouch!" she cried as her injured foot protested by sending a sharp pain up her leg.

Jake rubbed his cheek.  "Fal, you are such a dumbass sometimes.  I'm talking about the wench on the damn Hummer.  We can hook the chain to the tree and use the wench to move it!"

Fallon blinked at her own stupidity.  "Um...oh." 

"Oh, she says," Jake murmured, limping toward the Hummer to unhook the chain.  "She whacks me one and all she has to say is 'oh'.  Not 'I'm sorry' or 'oh, Jake, you're so handsome...I would follow you to the ends of the earth'.  No...she says 'oh'."

"And besides...it's winch, not wench."  She interrupted his tirade before adding, 

"You finished acting like a two year old?" she asked with a smirk.  "Cuz, I'd really like to save your boss' hide.  I have a promise to keep."  She smiled secretively.  

"Yeah, yeah...like I couldn't tell you want to jump his bones," Jake commented as he pulled the chain past her and fixed it to a large limb on the tree.

"I do not!" she protested.

"Oh?" he asked, sarcastically.  "You always run your fingers over a man's chest and touch his lips when you're supposed to be nursing him back to health?"

She shot him an evil look as she climbed back into the driver's seat.  "Keep it up, Shaw, and I'll leave you here."  She put the Hummer in reverse and eased down on the gas pedal, angling the vehicle so the wench would pull the tree in the direction needed to clear the road.  She pushed the button that operated the wench and tapped her foot impatiently while it slowly moved the tree.

Jake waited by the side of the road until the tree had been moved far enough for them to drive around it.  He unhooked the chain and waited until the wench wound it back in place before he climbed back in the Hummer and took his place beside Frank.  His face had a little more color and the violent shudders had stopped.

Fallon glanced back at them through the mirror before she resumed driving. _ If he dies_, she thought silently to herself, _it will be my pleasure to make sure Renquist pays for it with his own life._

************

"We're here, Jake!" Fallon announced, bringing the Hummer to a stop.

Jake glanced at the building and gulped.  "This is a hospital?"

Fallon had gotten out of the vehicle and moved around to open the hatch.  "Yes.  I know it's small, nothing like we're used to back home, and looks a little rundown, but it's clean and sanitary."

"I'll take your word for it," he mumbled, climbing out of the Hummer.

"How's he doing?" she asked as they slid the stretcher toward them.

"He's still unconscious," he said.  "But he's been pretty calm since the tree incident."

They carried the stretcher toward the double doors of the hospital and were met outside by two orderlies who had a gurney waiting for them.  Jake and Fallon placed the stretcher on the gurney as a voice asked, "What happened?"

Fallon grabbed Frank's hand as they walked beside the moving gurney.  "Fer-de-Lance bite is the immediate danger.  He also took a bad crack to the head..." she paused and looked at the doctor.  He wasn't going to believe this one.  "He was also tortured by electrical shock."

"What?!" Jake exclaimed.

************

Jake paced the waiting room of the tiny hospital.  It had been nearly two hours since he and Fallon had carried Frank's prone body into the building.  

"Jake, sit down," Fallon suggested, handing him a cup of coffee.

"Too nervous," he said, sipping the hot liquid. 

"You heard what the doctor said...you need to stay off of that leg," she admonished.  While Frank was being treated, a doctor had looked at Jake's gunshot wound.  The wound was cleaned and bandaged and he had been given antibiotics to ward off any infections, although the wound showed no signs of any developing.

The sound of quiet footsteps caught their attention and they both turned to see a young orderly heading toward them.  "Doctor Hernandez will see you now," he said, pointing to the room at the end of the hall.

Fallon and Jake, who limped slowly beside her, made their way to the room the orderly indicated.  When they entered they found Frank lying quietly in the hospital bed, an IV and heart monitor hooked to him.  A middle-aged man, with jet-black hair and a stocky build stood next to his bed.

"How is he?" Jake asked the doctor, who was checking the IV.

"Agent Shaw, Agent Dumas, please sit down," he indicated for them to sit on the other bed that occupied the room.  "Agent Donovan has gone through the worst of it, I believe.  It appears enough of the venom got into his system to make him extremely ill; however, the anti-venom you administered is taking care of that problem."

Both Jake and Fallon breathed a sigh of relief.

"However," he said, hesitantly, "He has yet to awaken, and that troubles me.  I believe the severe trauma to his head, along with his weakened condition from the electroshock, has complicated his condition."

Fallon cursed under her breath.  "Damn you, Roberto.  If you weren't dead already, I'd kill you again."

Jake gave her a sideways glance.  "Fal, you worry me.  I think if we'd have stayed in close contact since Quantico...you'd have driven me insane."

"Of course.  According to my father, the only reason I was born was to drive men insane," she said with a spiteful smile.  She turned her attention back to the doctor.  "What can you do for him?"

He shook his head.  "You don't seem to understand, _Senorita_.  He has lapsed into a coma."

I'd like to thank Deana for helping me through a case of writer's block with this chapter.  95% of what came before the "wench" in this chapter was Dee's idea and, I'll be honest, if it weren't for her...this puppy would still be hidden in the computer somewhere, never to see the light of day—or web page, as the case may be. ;)  


	10. 'Color my hair, do what I dare...man, I ...

Chapter Ten

"Excuse me, _senorita_?"

"Yes?" Fallon answered, lifting her head.  She had been sitting by Frank's bed with her head lying on the edge, resting her eyes.  When she looked up, she saw the concern in the brown eyes of the pretty, young nurse that had been in and out of the room all night.

"If you and _señor_ Jake would like to clean up...you can use the nurse's and doctor's changing rooms.  I will show you."  She smiled brightly at Fallon.

"Thank you, Carlita.  That is very kind of you." She smiled at the nurse, but turned her attention back to Frank.  There was no change, he lay motionless and expressionless, and absolutely no indication there was a consciousness to the man.

"I also have ointment for you to heal the cuts on your feet.  You and I...we are the same size, eh?" Carlita asked.

"It looks like it," Fallon commented.

"_Sí_, I believe we are.  I have brought you some clothes to change into."

"Bless you, Carlita," Fallon cried, hugging the nurse fiercely.  She still wore the skimpy red dress covered by Frank's sweater. 

"Come...come with me."  She tugged at Fallon's hand when she hesitated.  "Do not worry, your friend will be fine...you will see."

Fallon hesitated when she reached Jake, who was sleeping in the spare bed in Frank's room.

"I will show him later, _senorita._"  Carlita said with an understanding smile.

Carlita led her to the staircase at the end of the hall.  "It is just up these stairs," she explained.  

Fallon's body protested the climb, but climb she did.  She longed to get out of the clothes Jorge had supplied and wash the dirt and sweat from her body.

"In here," Carlita said, opening the door at the top of the stairs.  "The shower is back there," she pointed, " and here are clothes and a pair of sandals.  I hope that you find them suitable."

"I can't thank you enough, Carlita.  You are very kind," Fallon said with a genuine smile.

Carlita blushed.  "_Gracias_, _senorita_."

Fallon took her time, letting the hot water cascade over her body.  She scrubbed herself raw; as if washing would erase the past four months of torment she had put her body through.  

She sighed heavily as she shampooed her hair.  "It's over," she repeated again and again.  "You never have to let another man that you don't want touch you again."  She had agreed to take this assignment as her last.  She was getting out...taking a desk job as soon as they could find a place for her.

She turned off the water when she felt sufficiently clean and toweled herself off.  Wrapping the towel around her, she headed back to the pile of clothing Carlita had left.  She slipped on the green peasant blouse and tucked it into the tan skirt before applying the ointment and bandages, also thoughtfully supplied by the charming nurse, to her feet. 

She slipped on the sandals and made her way back to Frank's room.  She peeked in the door and found Jake was still sleeping.  She checked his pockets carefully without waking him and found what she was after...money.  After checking on Frank once more, she smiled wickedly and left the room.

"Carlita, I have an errand to run.  Would you tell _señor_ Jake I will be back in a few minutes?"

"Of course, _senorita_ Dumas."

************

"But, where did she go, Carlita?" Jake asked anxiously.

"I do not know, _señor_ Jake," Carlita admitted.  "She has been gone but twenty minutes.  She only said she had an errand to run."

Jake nodded absently.  Where would she go?  He glanced over at Frank.  Still no change, although his color had improved immensely.  He shrugged; he knew she could take care of herself.  "Now, where is this place that I can get cleaned up?"  

After he was shown the doctor's changing room, he limped back to the Hummer and rifled through the bags, finding a change of clothes identical to what he was now wearing.  He grabbed them and slowly headed back to the changing room.

He showered quickly, wanting to get back to Frank's room.  He didn't like leaving him alone.  He changed the bandage on his leg, donned his clothes and ran a hand through his wet hair and made it back to Frank's room in fifteen minutes.  "What the hell?" he said, seeing a woman with honey-blonde hair sitting on the edge of Frank's bed, holding his hand.

The woman turned her head and winked.  "Hey, Shaw.  'Bout time you woke up."

"Fallon!"

"Duh!"

"Your hair."

"Jake, we're going to have to enroll you in speech class if you keep speaking in fragmented sentences," she said, laughing.

He laughed.  "Yeah, that was pretty Cody of me," he commented offhandedly.

"Huh?"

He shook his head.  "Never mind.  How's Frank?"

"Same," she said, sighing as she touched his cheek softly.  

Hearing loud voices, they both turned toward the door.  Jake peered down the hallway and saw familiar faces.  "Cody! Alex! Monica!"  

Fallon watched as Jake was smothered with hugs from his teammates.  She smiled and squeezed Frank's hand gently.  He was lucky to have such a close-knit team.  "Wake up, Frank," she pleaded quietly.  "Everyone's here for you and we want you to wake up."

"Who's she?" Cody asked Jake, nodding toward the blonde holding Frank's hand.  

They all moved closer to hover around the bed.  "Everyone, meet Fallon Dumas," Jake announced.  

Fallon looked up and they got a good look at her bruised and battered face.  Monica inhaled audibly, "Oh, you must be hurting bad."

"Nah, not really.  It hardly bothers me anymore," she lied, standing and shaking each of their hands.  "Now, who's Cody?"  She laughed when Cody made a face.  "I'm just kidding!  Anyway, I wanted to apologize for being so rude on the phone."

Cody shrugged.  "No biggie.  It wasn't me your anger was directed at, anyway."

"True," she agreed.  "Where is the stupid piss-ant?"

"Right here, Fallon," Renquist said, entering the room.

They watched as Fallon visibly clenched her jaw and gnashed her teeth.  Jake had seen that look at Quantico a few times when she was ready to beat the daylights out of their instructors.  Without hesitation, she flew at Renquist, landing a punch square on his jaw, knocking him on his ass.

He just stared at her like she had grown another head.  "Fallon, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"You stupid sonofabitch," she cursed, ready to lunge at him again, but Jake held her back.  

"Fallon, calm down!  Now is _not_ the time and it's definitely not the place," Jake cautioned her.  

"Jake's right," Alex agreed, taking Fallon's place, sitting on the edge of Frank's bed.  "How ya doin', boss?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm.  

"Yeah," Cody added.  "Don't you think it's time you get your lazy ass out of bed?"

Monica laughed.  Good 'ol Cody, trying to goad Donovan into waking up.

"I get the point," Fallon said, relaxing against Jake.  "I'll kill him _after_ Donovan wakes up."

Jake laughed.  "That's my girl."  

************

"_Senorita_?"

Fallon turned from the window she was gazing out of to see Carlita peeking in the door.  "Yes, Carlita?"

"The cook has prepared some tortillas and beans for you and your friends.  I will take you to the break room, ¡_por favor_!?"

"Food!" Cody exclaimed, jumping out of his chair.  "I'm starving.  No food on the trip down."

Everyone laughed as Cody's stomach rumbled loudly.  "We better feed the animal before he goes crazy," Monica commented, taking his arm and leading him from the room.  Renquist and Alex followed.  

"Not going?" Jake asked Fallon.

She shook her head.  "No.  The last thing I want is food."  She sighed.  "What I want is for him to wake up."  She resumed her seat on the edge of the bed.  

"What's the deal, Fallon?  You don't even know him."  Although he could tell her concern was genuine, he really didn't understand.

"Geez, Jake.  Just because I've only known him a day or so, I shouldn't care if he'll be all right?"  Fallon shook her head.  "He risked his life for me."

"Yeah, I understand _that_," Jake said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.  "I don't get the schoolgirl crush."

"It's not," she said, covering his hand.  "I can't explain it."

He nodded and went to sit on the spare bed.  "I never thanked you for what you did for me at Quantico," he said out of the blue.

She looked at him with a frown.  "I didn't do anything."

"Sure you did...after the three days of seclusion.  The beer and pizza that I refused," he reminded her.

She smiled slyly.  "Oh, you mean, the offer to have sex?"  She laughed.  "Yeah...that perked you right up."

"How did you know?" he asked.

"What, that they would throw us into a mock mission after giving us only enough time to fall asleep?"  She shrugged.  "It was what I would have done in their place, I guess.  See how we'd react after a situation like that.  Me...I knew I'd be too out of if after an hour of sleep.  I wouldn't react well.  So...I used you to keep me awake."

Jake laughed.  "So...it wasn't that you were unable to resist the charms of Jake Shaw...you were using me."

She smiled.  "Something like that.  But, I always liked you, so I figured...who better to spend the night with?"  She laughed, realizing what she said. 

"Well, you still saved my bacon.  I wouldn't have reacted well after sleeping for an hour, either.  You got my adrenaline flowing again, and it kept me sharp."  

She smiled.  "So, you were never disappointed that we didn't sleep together...you know...have sex?"

Jake gave her a "you've got to be kidding" look.  "Hell yeah, I was!  You're a hottie," he admitted.

"I agree," a quiet whisper of a voice chimed in.

"Frank!" they both cried in unison.

He smiled weakly, but didn't reply. He lifted a hand and fingered Fallon's honey locks and arched a brow.

She shrugged and smiled.  "It's my natural color," she explained.

"Good to see you awake, boss," Jake said, touching his shoulder.  "The gang's all here.  I'll go get them."


	11. A Rude Awakening

Chapter Eleven

Fallon poured water from the pitcher on the nightstand into a plastic cup.  "Here ya go...you've got to be thirsty." 

He nodded and took the cup.  She helped him hold his head up to drink and took the cup from him when he finished.  "Thanks."

"You scared the shit out of me, Donovan," she admitted, nervously.

"I was pretty scared myself," he stated.  "I hate snakes."

She laughed.  "I'm not too fond of them either.  Especially the one that bit you."

"Tell me about it," he said, rolling his eyes.  "What happened with Uribe?"

"He's dead," Jake said, entering the room, followed by the rest of the crew.

"Dead?" Renquist repeated.

"Yes, dumbass.  He said 'dead'," Fallon retorted angrily.  

Alex laughed.  She was really beginning to like this woman.  She didn't take crap from anyone and didn't care who knew it.

"Fallon, really, when are you going to grow up?" Renquist scolded.

"As far as you're concerned? NEVER!"  

Everyone exchanged confused glances, including Frank.  "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded.  "Tom, what happened to your face?"

Renquist touched his bruised jaw gingerly, but said nothing.

"Fallon decked him," Cody tattled.

Donovan arched a brow and nearly smiled.  That was a sight he would have paid good money to see.

"I'll tell you what's going on," Fallon said, angrily turning on a heel to face Donovan.  "This idiot set you up, that's what's going on!"

"WHAT?" The group questioned.

"While I...we...were being held captive, they talked about the setup, not realizing I could hear them," she explained.  "At first, I thought it was Jorge, but he was just a front for Roberto Uribe."

Jake nodded.  "Armando's younger brother," he answered the questioning looks from his teammates.

Fallon moved back to Frank's side and sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his arm.  "Roberto made that video of me, with Jorge's aide, and sent it...not to the DEA, but the CIA.  He," she pointed to Renquist, "Is a director in the CIA."

"I know," Donovan admitted.

"You knew?" Cody asked, flabbergasted.

He nodded.  "I've known Tom a long time."  He looked at Renquist.  "I never thought you'd betray me."

"I...I had no choice, Frank," he admitted, shamefacedly.

"Okay," Cody piped up.  "I'm lost, here."

Monica nodded.  "Me, too."

"Count me in," Alex added.

Jake raised his hand, "I'm on that list."

"Hell, don't feel bad," Fallon said.  "I know why he did it and I don't understand."

"How can you say that?" Renquist demanded.

"Please!  You did it for yourself, not for me," she accused.

"Now, I'm _really_ confused," Cody said, cocking his head sideways.  "Will you people please stop talking in circles and just spit it out already!"

Frank grabbed her wrist.  "Why, Fallon?"

She shook her head, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.  "Roberto sent that video to the CIA knowing there was one man there who would make the necessary arrangements to get you to come back to Colombia.  My father."

Frank blinked.  _Father?  Renquist is her father? _ He looked over at Tom.  "I never knew you had a daughter."

"That was the plan, to keep my family safe."

"Please," Fallon spat.  "I barely knew you, you ass.  You were never there.  My mother drank herself into an early grave because of you and your sanctimonious job.  Keep us safe...give me a break.  You didn't even know we existed."

"That's not true," he began but she cut him off.

"Go feed it to someone else, Renquist, because it won't work with me."  She stood and faced him.  "And how _dare_ you risk the lives of others on a mission that would be deemed useless?  I was as good as dead.  Protocol demanded that no attempt be made to save me.  I knew what I was getting into."

"But it wasn't useless," he reasoned.  "You're alive."

She rolled her eyes.  "They almost died, damn you.  It wasn't worth the risk."

"It was to me," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.  "No matter what you think of me, I do love you, Fallon."

She didn't reply; she merely turned her back to him.

"It was worth it to me, too," Jake said.  "Frank wasn't too happy about the mission, but I was going...with or without permission."

"You should have been honest with us," Frank said, scornfully.  "We could have prepared better, and no one would have gotten hurt."

"I...I'm sorry.  I wasn't thinking straight," Renquist admitted.  "All that I could see was my baby being tortured.  She was all that mattered."

Fallon shook her head.  "No matter what your reasons, _Father_, you were wrong."

He nodded and sighed heavily.  "They'll have my resignation as soon as we return."

The doctor entered the room and looked at everyone with dismay.  "He is awake and you did not tell me?"  He shook his head in disgust.  "You must leave now, he has had enough excitement."

Everyone hung their heads in shame.  They were so caught up in the situation; they had neglected Frank's health.

"Let's go find somewhere to stay," Monica suggested.  "Rest easy, Frank.  We'll be back later."

"Yeah, later, boss," Cody said.

Alex squeezed Donovan's hand.  "Get some rest, Frank."

He smiled weakly at his team. 

"I'm glad you came out of that coma, Frank.  Fallon was driving me crazy," he said, winking.  "You coming?" he asked her.

"I'll catch up with you.  Take my father with you, please," she insisted more than asked.

He nodded and kissed her cheek.  "See if he's up for pizza and beer...or your other offer."

"Jake!" she cried, slapping him playfully.  "You're so bad."

"You should really go, too, _senorita_ Dumas," Dr. Hernandez commented.

"No, let her stay," Frank said wearily.  

"Very well, but do not tire him further," he warned.

Fallon smiled sweetly.  "Promise."

Frank lay quiet while the doctor fussed over him before finally leaving them alone.  "How're your feet?" he asked unexpectedly.

"You're kidding, right?" she said, laughing.  "You nearly die and you're worried about my feet?"  She poured another cup of water and raised the bed with the remote to a reclining position so he could drink easier.

"Thanks," he said, taking the cup from her and drinking thirstily.  "Really, how are you?"

"I'm fine, I..." she stopped in mid sentence as the floodgates opened and the tears flowed freely.

Donovan sat the cup aside and pulled her into his embrace.  He hadn't expected tears from her; she had acted so tough during all her hardships.  "What is it, Fallon?" he asked softly as her body wracked with harsh sobs.

"I don't know," she sobbed.  "You, me, Jake, dad...Jorge...everything."

"I wish I could say I understood, but you're not making any sense," he admitted, stroking her soft honey-blonde hair.

"I know," she said, sitting up.  She reached for the tissues that sat on the nightstand and wiped her eyes.  "I'm just so relieved that it's over.  I mean really over.  This was my last undercover gig."

"Glad to hear it," he admitted and frowned at his own admission.  _Why does it matter to me?_

"Are you?" she asked and smiled when he nodded.  "Yeah, me too.  I don't think I could do this kind of thing again."

"What kind of thing?" 

She turned away, ashamed of herself.  "Prostituting myself for my job, basically."

He'd heard that before...from Alex.  It was something he knew she still struggled with.  "You did what you had to, Fallon," he replied, sympathetically.

She sighed and shook her head.  "It doesn't make it easier, Frank." She looked down at his hand as he squeezed her arm gently.  "I want to forget Fallon ever existed and go back to being just plain 'ol Shay."

"Excuse me?  If Cody were here you'd be hearing 'you've lost me again'," Frank stated with a frown.

She smiled.  "Do you mind if I lay down with you?"  

He shook his head and scooted over while she toed off her sandals and slipped under the blanket with him, mindful of the IV attached to his arm.

"Sweet Jesus," she exclaimed.  "I didn't know you were nude!"

He chucked softly.  "Don't worry, I'm not up to 'your other offer' as Jake put it.  You're safe...for now."

She grinned mischievously as she pillowed her head on his chest.  "Mmm...I could sleep for a year in your arms," she said not realizing she said it out loud.

"I don't know, _Shay," he said.  "I could think of other things to do beside sleep."_

She giggled softly.  "Thought you weren't up for it."

He sighed.  "Unfortunately, I'm not up for much of anything right now.  You give me a week to recover and I'll hold you to that offer."

"Promise?" she said, sleepily.

"If you tell me the deal with 'Shay'."  

She nodded against his chest.  "Shay is my given name; Fallon is just another cover name.  I didn't want my father to know I was joining the agency, so I created Fallon Dumas.  He wouldn't know her from Adam.  Shay Renquist would set off all the alarms."

"I like Shay...pretty Irish name," he said.

"Mmm...it means 'gift'," she said, closing her eyes.

"Remind me to thank your father for the 'gift'," he joked, chuckling softly as he drifted off to sleep.

************

Frank woke with the feeling of something missing from his life.  As wakefulness approached, he remembered the sensation of falling asleep with something soft and warm in his arms, something that was no longer there.

"Frank?" 

Opening his eyes, he found Jake standing over him.  "Good morning."

"Afternoon, actually.  How're you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

"Better.  Fallon...I mean, Shay?" he asked, glancing around the room.

Jake's face clouded in apprehension; how would Donovan react to the news?  "She's gone, Frank.  Disappeared.  Renquist is gone, too."

"What do you mean, gone?" he asked, trying to get up.

"I mean, gone...as in, no longer here," he explained.  "We've checked around...she and Renquist left on a flight to Miami about six hours ago.  Cody's checking into it."

"_Señor_ Donovan," Carlita said as she entered the room, her voice and face registered her sadness.  "_Senorita_ Dumas asked me to give you a message."  

"What is it, Carlita?" He wasn't really looking forward to the message; having a feeling it was not good news.

"She apologizes, sir, but something has happened and she must go away and wishes for you not to try to find her," Carlita relayed apologetically.

"Did she say anything else?" Jake asked while Frank sat silent in his dejection.

"_Si, señor_, she said goodbye."

Frank lay back on the bed and gazed out of the window.  "Goodbye, Shay..." _The gift never to be opened._

Finis~


End file.
